


breathe easy

by jongdaesang (d10smessi)



Series: there will be us [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Makeup, Post-Break Up, Romance, non-au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 09:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11438268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d10smessi/pseuds/jongdaesang
Summary: somewhere in the city of new york, kyungsoo meets jongin again, and they talk about things several years too late.





	breathe easy

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING:** discussions of depression (and the usual things that come with it)
> 
> please read with caution.
> 
>  
> 
> (will make more sense if you read it with projectile motion, the first part of the series)

kyungsoo breathes the early, or almost, spring air. mid-march rolls in new york city like a cinema reel in old and quiet movie houses in the parts of the city where time seems to have slowed down like an illusion. people rush by in their long coats and jackets, not as thick anymore since the temperature is in transition.

 

it’s a lot like how he’s feeling right now.

 

he’s dressed nicely and he pushes his round glasses up his nose while he huddles deep within the confines of his turtleneck sweater, uncaringly burying almost half his face on the thick swathe of fabric. he walks alongside the multitude of people and kyungsoo relishes on the fact that he’s so _small,_ so unrecognizable, so insignificant, among the presence of the crowd who is, like him, just trying to get to their destination.

 

kyungsoo makes a right turn and the amount of passers-by thin a little bit but the cars and the smoke are omnipresent. he looks ahead and he sees a tall figure standing a few yards away and kyungsoo slows his steps, and tries to keep his footfalls as silent as possible.

 

jongin looks good, even from a distance. the black of his coat fits him well and he cuts an intimidating figure with his hands clasped behind his back and the lazy sway of his body. he smiles at that—jongin is always a performance, even at rest, like there is a dance routine ready to break out from underneath his skin.

 

kyungsoo watches as jongin turns and the younger man’s face breaks out in a large smile, brighter than any light kyungsoo has seen. kyungsoo quickens his pace and jongin, too, walks up to him hurriedly.

 

“there you are,” jongin breathes out.

 

here he is.

 

“hi, jongin,” kyungsoo says, looking up at the handsome face that’s so familiar and yet, so different now. 

 

“hi, kyungsoo.” jongin sounds so shy and there’s a slight flush on his cheeks and on the tips of his ears. he wants to think it’s because of the cold but jongin leans in to give him a hug and kyungsoo forgets what he’s even rationalizing to himself. he enjoys the warmth surrounding them and it’s been so long since kyungsoo has not minded the attention trained on him.

 

he withdraws first and he feels his lips twitch in an almost smile. he falls in step with jongin and he feels, knows, that there’s a hand hovering on the small of his back—nearly touching, but never enough, born out of years of trying to hide what they cannot show.

 

kyungsoo holds the door to the café open and the smell of coffee and pastries is overwhelming and heady. luckily, there’s a spot in a secluded corner that’s free.

 

“you should have waited inside for me,” he admonishes, sitting down on the comfortable armchair while jongin does the same across.

 

the man grins sheepishly and says, “i want to see you as soon as you arrive.”

 

“you would see me when i entered the coffee shop,” kyungsoo laughs. “and i _thought_ i was 15 minutes early. i think you waited too long?”

 

jongin shakes his head and the smile on his face is charming—a little teasing but a lot honest—and he leans in like he’s sharing a secret. “i like to see you as soon as possible; i don’t mind waiting.”

 

and that’s such a jongin response that kyungsoo’s heart skips a beat. 

 

(jongin has always been waiting.)

 

he’s 34 years old already, but jongin makes him feel like it’s 2010 again, when kyungsoo has just met him, all tan skin and toothy grin and awkward limbs, coming alive in front of mirrors to the sound of slow music.

 

kyungsoo hides behind his hand with a cough and he turns his head to the counter, squinting and trying to read the options on the chalkboard overhead. he sees jongin on the corner of his eyes smile slightly and he knows the other man gets it—when kyungsoo’s ready. 

 

today, they’ll have fun and catch up. kyungsoo has missed jongin’s jokes.

 

“what do you want to order?” he asked, standing up and pulling his wallet. “i’ll get it for you.”

 

“but i’m the one who asked you out for coffee!” jongin makes a move to also get up but kyungsoo pushes him down by the shoulder.

 

“no. it’s my treat,” he says resolutely. “besides, don’t pretend that you are not all over free food.”

 

jongin snorts and he rubs his hand on his nape before twisting his body to look at the menu, too. eyes scanning the drink choices, he hums and kyungsoo watches as the younger man bites his lower lip in concentration. 

 

“dark hot chocolate,” jongin requests, “and their peanut butter cookie.”

 

kyungsoo nods and he makes his way to the counter to line up and order. once he’s all paid, he decides to just hang around and wait for their food.

 

“here you go, sir,” the girl behind the counter says, handing him a tray. kyungsoo answers with a soft _thanks._

 

jongin visibly perks up when he sets the tray on their table, hiding his phone away. he plucks kyungsoo’s drink—orange blossom tea with a little bit of honey—as well as his own large mug of chocolate and the plate with a single peanut butter cookie.

 

jongin stretches a little and he drops the tray on a table near the wall where there is a stack of them. he digs in at the cookie first and he exclaims, “it’s as big as your face, soo!”

 

“really?” kyungsoo bends forward, examining the piecefirst. 

 

jongin picks it up and he holds it beside kyungsoo’s face. “it is!”

 

kyungsoo is a little skeptical—that’s a huge cookie then. no wonder it’s expensive. jongin pulls out his phone with his other hand and he laughs, “hold this. i’ll take a pic.”

 

he’s always been weak in the knees and in resolve when it comes to jongin’s smiles and requests so kyungsoo helplessly takes the cookie, carefully putting it near his face so it won’t crumble. he’s sure they look really silly.

 

“smile, kyungsoo,” jongin orders from behind the camera and he sees the man’s eyes disappear and he just can’t help it. kyungsoo feels his lips pull into a heart and his eyes into crescents as jongin snaps a picture and then another.

 

kyungsoo puts the cookie back on the plate and jongin immediately tears a piece of it.

 

“here, taste it,” he says, offering the morsel to kyungsoo. he wants to decline truly, but jongin, ever since, always gives the first bite to kyungsoo when they share. he used to joke it’s because jongin is afraid of being poisoned.

 

kyungsoo closes his mouth around the piece and his lips brush on the skin of jongin’s fingers. he doesn’t look up to see the younger man’s face.

 

“it’s good,” he says, once he has chewed and swallowed and he can finally look up at jongin again. he picks up his mug of tea, blowing air to cool it down a bit, and letting the smell fan on his face. he steals a glance at jongin and the man is staring at the fingers where kyungsoo has accidentally brushed his lips on with an indiscernible expression.

 

(it is not really indiscernible. kyungsoo’s just good at avoiding observations.)

 

they let the chatter of the other customers fill in the silence that used to be comfortable. now, it’s a ticking time bomb, loud and obtrusive. kyungsoo hears a father tell his toddler from two tables away that he’s going to buy her a new set of crayons.

 

jongin cracks first.

 

“how have you been?”

 

that’s a loaded question, kyungsoo thinks.

 

“fine,” he replies, “new york has been good to me.”

 

jongin smiles at that, ripping a small piece of cookie and eating it before asking, “have you been here? all this time? they didn’t allow visitors and one of the managers just gave us your phone number after you—”

 

he lets it hang in the air and kyungsoo is thankful that jongin doesn’t mention it directly. not now, he thinks. not here.

 

“i’ve been with my parents,” kyungsoo answers truthfully, “for almost two months. then i moved here. i’ve been seeing someone.”

 

jongin freezes at that and kyungsoo realizes how it has sounded. before he corrects himself, jongin, with an eyebrow raised in concern, asks, “a therapist?”

 

“yes.” kyungsoo takes a sip of his tea and he wonders why it makes him giddy that jongin has not assumed anything. it’s a show of maturity and he feels pride well up inside him at jongin growing up, even if he’s not there during the later years. 

 

he adds, “she’s an american-born korean so we alternate in speaking english and korean in our sessions. i go to her twice a week since almost a month ago. it was three times a week before.”

 

jongin grins at that. “that’s good, right?”

 

“very,” kyungsoo shrugs but he knows it’s something to be happy and boastful about. and this is jongin, so he does. “it’s progress.”

 

kyungsoo surprises even himself when he feels good about being able to share this. his therapist, dr. lee, will take it as a milestone.

 

“and your family?” 

 

“they’re good,” kyungsoo pulls his phone out, tapping and swiping on the screen, “ _hyung_ had a son three months ago, on january 15.”

 

he pushes closer to jongin’s space, leaning across the table and showing pictures of the baby boy. “he looks really wrinkly and ugly but he’s the best thing in the world even if he cried a lot.”

 

“he’s born after me,” jongin says, amazed.

 

kyungsoo glances at him with a soft smile, “he is. his name is chung ho.”

 

jongin is still staring on the photo on the screen and kyungsoo blushes when it’s the picture of him smiling so wide, carrying the chubby newborn on his arms. there’s something akin to longing on the younger man’s eyes.

 

(he and jongin, they’ve longed for a lot of things.)

 

“did you go to korea to visit them?”

 

“of course,” kyungsoo replies. he knows how it sounds— _i went to korea but never told anyone, never told you_ —but he still continues, “i stayed with them for ten days. i took care of the baby and all that.”

 

jongin turns his eyes on him and kyungsoo is floored at how soft they are, how—happy. 

 

jongin settles for a “that’s good to hear.” and kyungsoo supposes it is. it’s a good thing. here is jongin being selfless and understanding, everything both cannot be when they’re younger. the smell of coffee lingers in the air and the silence turns into something comfortable as kyungsoo lets jongin inside, a little bit, on a part of his life post-everything.

 

there are photos of him with his family, his nephew, his brother and his sister-in-law. there are more of other things too, random pictures of new york and south korea and that one time he has gone to california. there are convenience stores, walking people, someone pushing a girl on the swing, a piece of cupcake, an old radio. they’re all mundane things but jongin looks so interested like the snapshots on kyungsoo’s phone are worthy of museum exhibits.

 

kyungsoo lets jongin rifle through the memories on his phone—all 3,581 of them. when he’s done, he hands the phone back to kyungsoo, saying, “thank you for showing them to me.”

 

“i wanted to,” kyungsoo answers, apropos of nothing, and he finds himself being completely honest, bare naked, once again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

jongin says, “i’d like to meet you again,” when they part. he leans in and envelops kyungsoo in a big hug. he sinks in to the embrace of the younger man and he feels content, in that few seconds and then, the next ones after that.

 

he tells jongin to message him and the man’s face lights up like the afternoon sun in the middle of summer. he’s so happy that, before leaving, he pecks kyungsoo on the cheek, fast and fleeting, and then running away while laughing.

 

it gets the notice of some other people passing by kyungsoo but he’s so preoccupied with the contact of jongin’s lips on his skin that he spends the entire twenty five—minute walk back to his apartment in a daze.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

jongin has asked kyungsoo for a late breakfast two days after they’ve gone to the coffee shop. they’ve been talking consistently, almost non-stop, like they’re trying to chase the lost years of static between them. kyungsoo doesn’t mind, jongin’s sense of humor is still the same—shitty and profoundly amusing.

 

they are settled in one of the booths of the diner and kyungsoo’s mouth waters when a plate of pancakes heaped with berries and nuts and a glass of orange juice is placed in front of him. jongin, the heathen, opts for a large cheese and spinach omelette and a serving of greek yogurt with granola, kiwi, and fresh strawberries.

 

kyungsoo digs in happily, making a noise that sounds half-way between obscenity and indecency. jongin chokes on his food at the sound and kyungsoo blushes when he realizes what has just happened.

 

“sorry,” he mumbles, stabbing the traitorously good pancakes.

 

“i should be sorry,” jongin says back. kyungsoo glances at the man just in time for jongin to also look at him.

 

their faces flare firetruck red and kyungsoo fumbles for his glass of orange juice while jongin coughs on his palm twice. it sounds fake. kyungsoo sets the glass down and snickers.

 

jongin looks at him, embarrassed.

 

“why?” the taller man asks defensively.

 

“nothing,” kyungsoo smirks. “you’re blushing.”

 

“you, too!” jongin snaps playfully before sighing, “don’t tease me or i won’t bring you to the movies after.”

 

kyungsoo’s eyebrows go up near his hairline. “i didn’t know we’re planning on going to see a film.”

 

“it’s a surprise,” jongin wiggles his eyebrows. “well, not anymore, but we can still go if you want. no pressure or anything.”

 

kyungsoo grins, “i’m not turning down movie tickets.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

it feels different, new—the good kind, of course—when they settle beside each other near the back of the theater. there aren’t much people this early, when the cinemas have just opened and it lends a certain ambiance of being personal like it’s something wholly theirs.

 

the movie is action-packed, the next installment of a superhero franchise. in the middle of the protagonist kicking a man in the face, jongin reaches for kyungsoo’s hand. instinctively, he stiffens but he relaxes when he remembers where they are, who he is, who _jongin_ is.

 

kyungsoo squeezes the younger man’s hand, holding it and never letting go.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

he has an appointment with dr. lee after the movie in thirty minutes. they’re in the lobby of the theater, both stretching their arms and legs after sitting down for so long. the movie’s good but it’s nothing worth talking about. the hand that jongin has held still feels warm.

 

“i can drop you off,” jongin offers.

 

“to dr. lee’s?”

 

“yeah,” he says, “it’s no problem.”

 

kyungsoo searches jongin’s face and there’s nothing there but genuine emotion. jongin’s always been real to himself and to others. it’s something kyungsoo has have a hard time of being, but he’s getting there—slowly, maybe with a lot more help than most people.

 

“okay then,” kyungsoo answers after a bit. “can you call a cab?”

 

the answering grin on jongin’s face creates a garden in kyungsoo’s stomach.

 

(kyungsoo is surprised when he gets out of the clinic and jongin’s there, waiting for him with his favorite drink and his most favorite smile. he grabs the plastic cup, sipping the milkshake, before he links his hand with jongin.

 

there is no better feeling in the world than finding out that his hand still fits perfectly in jongin’s palms and in between the spaces of jongin’s fingers.)

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

kyungsoo wakes up and he knows it’s not a good day. the sunlight filters in through the blinds and he stands up to pull the black out curtains closed. he revels in the darkness and it says a lot about his degree of familiarity when he falls back to his bed without tripping or hurting himself.

 

he grabs his phone from the bedside table and the light hurts his eyes momentarily when he clicks the home screen button. there’s a notification for a text from jongin and kyungsoo lazily swipes itto the left. reading, he sees jongin asking if he’s free, if he wants to go to central park to eat and walk around. he texts a _no_ and turns his phone off to go back to sleep.

 

he wakes up hours later, feeling groggy and still not better. it sucks and kyungsoo just wants to stay in bed and not do anything. he’s feeling numb today. 

 

(it’s preferable than feeling too much all at once, at the same time, like a bottle filled with pebbles being rattled. at least, today, kyungsoo doesn’t feel like he exists.)

 

he rolls on the bed and his stomach growls but he doesn’t feel hungry. he reaches for his phone and, when he turns it on, he finds multiple messages from jongin—asking if he’s okay, if he wants him to come to his place, that he’s just going to work and he can call or text whenever, asking if he’s eaten.

 

kyungsoo feels bad and guilty and he supposes it’s a good thing. it’s a _thing_. he texts jongin, _just woke up from nap. i’m okay._

 

immediately, there’s a reply— _are you sure?_

 

kyungsoo gulps and he wraps himself in his blanket more securely. it’s a habit. the warmth helps. he wants to type a _yes i’m sure_ but he ends up with a _not really._

 

jongin replies with a, _do you want me to call?_

 

kyungsoo figures he can save both of them the trouble so he puts jongin on call. once it connects, the call is immediately answered.

 

“hello?” jongin sounds hesitant, worried. “are you okay, kyungsoo? i can come over if you want.”

 

“please, don’t,” kyungsoo begs. he doesn’t want jongin near him, not right now. 

 

“that’s fine,” the other man assures. “do you want me to stay on the line?”

 

“yes.” kyungsoo puts the phone beside him, tapping the loudspeaker option. “can you talk to me, jongin?”

 

“of course,” jongin says. “i have plenty of gossip.”

 

the younger man starts talking—about absolutely anything, from the lady in the korean mart who keeps on asking if he’s exo’s kai to celebrity news back in korea. jongin takes talking to kyungsoo like a fish towards water and he doesn’t seem to mind when kyungsoo doesn’t speak or when he just hums or grunts to show that he’s still connected to the call and is listening.

 

occasionally, kyungsoo finds himself breaking into a small smile, even giggling softly. jongin doesn’t make the day better—he’s not a magical cure—but it’s a start. kyungsoo falls asleep again but this time, it’s a little more peaceful.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

there are things that stay the same. jongin hates coffee with a passion and he loves fried chicken still. he watches anime like it’s a religion and until now, he dances like he’ll never be on stage again.

 

there are things that change. one time, kyungsoo has caught a stray gray hair near the man’s temple. it’s all the years of bleaching and dyeing but the taller man still looks as vibrant as ever, as alive, as energetic, as handsome. kyungsoo has lost his mental list of the _things jongin isn’t before_ but he thinks he doesn’t really need it. not by a long shot. 

 

kyungsoo doesn’t mind. it feels like meeting jongin for the first time. 

 

he wants to know jongin.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> part 2 in a few days. kinda hard to write, read, and edit a fic with themes such as the ones in here, please understand.


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